Meet and Greet
by DCFanatic4life
Summary: Once upon a time, Chris Jericho thought his son would meet Stephanie McMahon's daughter, he just didn't think it would be under these circumstances...Jericho/Stephanie *Completed*
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters and/or real people in this story. The characters belong to the WWE and the real people own themselves. Pretty tame story otherwise so no real cautions!**

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><p>AN: So this story is based on a picture from the Hall of Fame of Ash and Aurora meeting each other (which is ridiculously cute) and I felt so inspired to write, I started this. It was going to be a one shot, but it just didn't lend itself to a one shot so it's going to be a two-shot, no more than a three shot (I swear!).

Anyways, I hope you enjoy the story and reviews are always welcome and appreciated and if you want to be brutal, go right ahead. :)

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><p>There's something bittersweet when he first sees them.<p>

They both look so beautiful, mother and daughter, like some pretty portrait. She looks more and more like her mother everyday. She's so much bigger since the last time he really got to see her, but she's growing up to look so much like Stephanie it's almost jarring. There's almost nobody else in her, it looks like. Aurora is the spitting image of Stephanie and she looks so sweet sitting there, her head leaned against Stephanie's side. He almost forgets he's with his own wife because Stephanie sparkling.

He finally glances back to his wife, doesn't scowl like he feels like doing, but it's with a wistful expression that he looks at her. Does she know? Could she possibly know? No, he never told her the reason why he left, but it's sitting there, in that long dress, a demure wrap slung around her waist. No, Jessica thought he'd left her for Barbie, who was probably looking skanky around here somewhere, but it was never for Barbie. Barbie is not the type of woman you leave your wife for, she's the type of woman you sleep with then fling to the side.

Stephanie is the type of woman you leave your wife for.

"See, Ash, there's some kids here," Jessica whispered to Ash. Ash had been the one who wanted to come. His mother wanted to stay at home, but Ash had apparently begged and pleaded for days to come to the Hall of Fame and WrestleMania. Jessica had finally assented, leaving the twins home with her mother while she took Ash down here. It had been a pleasant surprise to see Ash…and he'd leave it at that.

"This is pretty damn awesome," James Durbin muttered behind him and Chris laughed, glancing over his shoulder and nodding. The Hall of Fame was always something else entirely. There was so much wrestling history in the room it was always humbling. He'd missed last year's Hall of Fame, but every one he'd attended was really special.

"I know," Chris told him and both understood the brevity of the occasion.

"Who is that?" Ash tugged at the hem of his jacket when they were about to pass Stephanie and Aurora.

"That's Stephanie McMahon, you know her, the girl I've worked with a lot, and that's her daughter, Aurora, she's five, almost six," Chris explained. "Her birthday is right after the twins' birthday."

"Oh," Ash said, nodding.

Chris had intended to walk by, nod politely and then get the hell away from the life he'd almost had. So close, he'd been so close he could almost taste it, but she always held back. It wasn't good for the business to have scandal she'd told him. She couldn't afford it and her father was so in love with her relationship with Paul that everything seemed impossible to Stephanie. He'd been crushed, devastated, so devastated he'd run right into the cold, bony arms of Barbie Blank. Desperation will drive you to do slutty things.

"Chris, hey!" Stephanie stood up, flagging him down and he was surprised because clearly she could see Jessica was here and it almost hurt him that she didn't seem to care.

Wasn't there a time when this woman had loved him or claimed to love him? Now she didn't even seem to care that he was with someone he'd left for her? Was she going to add insult to injury? If he was honest, she was a big part of his return. She'd asked him and he relented like he always did, like he always would. He'd even signed and extension because he couldn't say no to her and she played him, she always played his feelings against him.

She'd probably never intended to consider being with him. He'd probably blindly left his entire life and she'd looked at him with pity because he'd misinterpreted everything. Where he saw love, she just saw an affair, nothing that really had any emotional attachment. Sure, he was just guessing, he'd never asked her, never inquired about it, but sometimes, he felt so low, so hidden under his layers of bravado that these thoughts gnawed away at him.

He often wondered what he could possibly do to win her over. He wanted her in every way, in _all_ ways, and she just never was on the same page. Why did Paul have everything Chris wanted? Chris had had Stephanie's body for a time, but he doubted he ever really had her heart. These thoughts rushed through his mind whenever he saw her. She always gave him this look and for the most part, he believed it to be pity. She pitied him his weakness of her.

He wanted to walk by, but Jessica was already stopping. The poor fool; she never even so much as believed Stephanie was a threat when, in reality, Stephanie had been a threat since the day he met her. "Chris, stop," Jessica placed her hand on his arm. Chris pretended not to notice Jessica scanning the crowd for any sign of Barbie. She really should have been focusing all her hatred for the woman who was walking over.

"Hey, did you not hear me?" Stephanie said as she came over. She pressed her hand to Chris's arm and he wanted to shrug it off, but even through the layers of clothes, her touch still sent shivers to his spine. It was gone a moment later.

"Yeah, sorry, it's loud in here," Chris said, his voice terse.

She seemed to notice as she cleared her throat. "Hey, Jessica, long time, no see."

"I know, it's been a while," Jessica said politely, nodding her head, "You look really pretty, let me just tell you. I love your dress."

Chris could tell that Jessica was just being overly polite and probably didn't mean a word of it. She was slick like that, kind of like a snake. She'd been doing things like that for years, saying one thing to a person's face, then turning around to him and telling him what she really thought.

"You too, that dress suits you." Chris smirked because he knows Stephanie's tone. He knows about Jessica's indiscretions because Chris told her all about them. He wants to kiss Stephanie for his tone, inappropriate as that may be, but only Stephanie could figuratively cut someone down to size with her sharp words.

"Thanks," Jessica said brightly, not picking up on the tone.

"Wow, so you're Ash," Stephanie beamed at the little boy and Chris knew that she was thinking about when he'd made the ultimate proposal to her. He'd asked her once, twice, three times to leave her husband and be with him, but the fourth, oh, the fourth…

"_I need to talk to you," he said with complete resolve._

"_Okay," Stephanie steeled herself, braced herself really as she pushed her chair forward a little so her stomach pressed against her desk._

_Chris closed the door behind him and locked it to give them privacy. He turned back to her before he started pacing across the room. Stephanie watched him fidget with his fingers, cracking his knuckles. She wanted to open her mouth to say something, but something told her this was not the time for jokes. Chris had been on her for weeks and he was getting tired of it, she knew, so she could tell whatever it is he had to say was going to be big._

_He glanced at her amid his pacing, then stopped, turned to face her and nodded his head a little to himself before talking. "I picture us. I sit around and I picture us."_

"_Where?"_

"_No, not where," he answered. "In time, just…in time, in space. I picture us." His eyes are already red and though she knows he has allergies, she knew this wasn't because of that. "I have been crazy about you since pretty much the day we started our storyline, hell, maybe since the day I met you, who knows when it crept up on me, but it did and you know how I feel, Steph."_

_She sighed, "I do."_

"_I picture us and I picture Ash running around with his sisters and Aurora is there and Murphy is there and I know Aurora isn't mine, but I love her like she is and Ash and the girls would love her and Murphy so much. And we can be a family, together, you know, of course, damn it, families are together…well, for the most part, I'm rambling, but…I picture it. I see it in my head. A house, you know, a house and gates, lots of them, and a huge backyard for them to run around in and a playground, maybe, they're all really young."_

"_That sounds…nice," she nodded. He turned away and turned back to her, his eyes so clearly filled with tears._

"_I thought I believed in soulmates and fate and all that good mumbo jumbo, but I don't anymore," he told her, "because I thought I had that with my wife, but then I met you and it was so much stronger so I don't know how I could have had such an error in judgment. So that must mean there is no fate because fate would have let me have you so long before this."_

"_Chris, please don't cry." If he cried, she knew she was going to cry._

"_I feel so…what does he have, Steph? I mean, what is it about him that makes him better than me?"_

"_Chris…"_

"_I need you…does he? Does he need you like this?"_

"_It isn't right," she finally mustered up the strength to tell him. "Tearing up two families because we couldn't keep our hands away from each other isn't right. I can't…I can't…"_

"_No wonder I picture us, it's the only way I'll ever have you," he laughed as a tear escapes its prison. He wiped it quickly away. "Ash and the twins would have loved you, for the record. They would have adored you. I'm going to go…"_

"_Chris, let me explain."_

"_No, you know, I've heard you try to explain for weeks now and I kept hoping that your explanations would turn into…I don't know what I was thinking actually. It's okay…I'll be okay, and you will be okay too, and it's probably better we didn't drag any of our kids into this."_

"_Chris…"_

"_Just…did you love me? At any point enough to even consider…no, you know what, no, no, no, don't answer that. Let me keep a little hope," he nodded and left before she could even think of a response to that._

"Hi," Ash said to her, giving her a shy smile. He wasn't as outgoing as Chris upon meeting new people (he was still young), but once you got to know him, he was a loud, boisterous kid.

"I've seen you sometimes while you've been growing up, but I haven't seen you in so long and you are so big now," Stephanie told him. "Oh, I'm sorry." She turned to her daughter. "Aurora, come here a minute, sweetheart."

Aurora came over, a crooked smile on her face as she stood next to Stephanie. She, too, was a little shy. Chris looked at her and he couldn't help but smile. She was just too much like Stephanie for him not to smile and think of how great a mother Stephanie was. He'd seen it firsthand and he was so proud of her for that.

"Hey, Aurora, you look beautiful tonight," Chris told the little girl, a little girl he would have loved like a daughter.

"Thank you," she bit her lip in the same way that Stephanie did.

"Aurora, I want you to meet someone," Stephanie told her daughter, smoothing her hair down her back. "This is Ash Irvine, he's Chris's son. He's…eight, right?"

"Uh huh," Ash nodded.

"He's eight and I think you two would be very good friends," Stephanie told them. Stephanie turned to the adults. "There are so few kids actually here that Aurora can play with."

"Oh, I understand, Jessica said. "Hey, maybe you guys could watch WrestleMania together."

"Okay," Ash nodded.

"Hi," Aurora said, sticking her hand, while feeling a little apprehensive because her mommy and Ash's parents were staring at her and she wasn't too little to notice that she was apparently being put on a big screen so everyone could watch. It made her slightly uncomfortable.

"Hi," Ash said, shaking her hand back as his mother cooed behind him.

Chris was in hell. This was hell and he was being tortured. Here he was between the life he had and the life he could have had and they were shaking hands right in front of him. He stuck his hands in his pockets because they were clenched so tight his nails were probably about to draw blood. Jessica was even smiling about it, clueless and he dared to look over at Stephanie, to see what maybe she felt…if she felt at all. She was still smiling at the two of them, looking between them both. Was she thinking the same thing he was?

"You can watch WrestleMania with me," Aurora said. "That would be okay."

"Okay," Ash told her, looking at Chris.

"That sounds like fun," Jessica said. "I think you guys will have fun together."

"Me too," Aurora said, biting her lip again, which was something she probably did a lot.

"We should probably get to our seats," Chris said because this was becoming painful.

"Of course," Stephanie looked at him and she smiled and it was strained this time. "The show's about to start anyways and we should get to our seats."

"Yeah, us too," Chris nodded. Things were getting uncomfortable. The tension was getting thicker and if they weren't careful, Jessica was definitely going to pick up on it. "Come on, you guys, our seats are over here. Bye, Steph, bye, Aurora, it was really nice seeing you."

"Bye," she waved cutely as Stephanie smiled at them again. Chris led his group over to their seats, with Jessica next to him and Ash on the other side of her. Ash leaned over and tapped Chris on the knee. Chris leaned over his wife to get to his son.

"What is it, kiddo?"

"Daddy, I think Stephanie's pretty," Ash told him shyly. Chris took a deep breath and whispered quietly, so quietly only Ash could hear.

"I do too, kid, I do too."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, much appreciated. So I was writing this chapter and it just felt like I couldn't wrap it up just yet, so I've decided to let it run its course to however many chapters it takes to get the story out. I'm predicting five, but who knows with me.

On a side note, I hope everyone got the chance to see the pictures from the Hall of Fame, especially the one of Chris and Stephanie hugging because...amazing! Anyways, enjoy the chapter, reviews are appreciated! :)

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><p>Jessica didn't even stay for the show.<p>

She tells him that the girls need her back home and since Ash has made plans to watch WrestleMania with Aurora, there's really no need for her to be there. Chris will fly home to Tampa tonight after the party and then he can just fly tomorrow back to Miami for Raw…or, Jessica suggests, Ash can just miss school on Monday and be at Raw. Anything for her not to be there, she's put in her time at the Hall of Fame and that time is now over. She wants her real life, a life that so suddenly did not include him. He isn't sure when the change occurred exactly, but it was in their time apart. It was better for both of them, but she likes his money and he likes having a home where his kids are always.

So he's forced to walk Ash to Stephanie's office and he dreads it. His eyes barely focused the night before as person after person was inducted into the Hall of Fame. His eyes kept drifting towards her, taking her in, the silk dress the almost hid her beautiful curves. He'd been disappointed to find she'd been on a gym kick, determined to muscle up because her pliant, wonderful skin was perfect and the thought of her ever thinking she wasn't perfect hurts him in a profound way. He's never wanted that for her, his feelings aside, he wants Stephanie to feel confident and powerful.

He couldn't take his eyes off her when Paul was on stage. He could see Aurora taking pictures of her father and it was sweet in a misguided kind of way. That little girl had no idea her father was an obstacle to what Chris wants so desperately. Stephanie smiled politely, laughed where appropriate, and clapped like any normal person would, but his eyes continued to train themselves on her face, simply her face, trying to take in every expression and analyze them, wondering if there was something there he was missing.

"Dad, do you think I could watch it from the audience?" Ash asks as they walk down the hallway, looking for Stephanie's.

"I'm not really sure, kiddo," Chris tells him, "I don't know what Stephanie's plans really are. She can't exactly go sit out there, but would you mind not going out there or do you really, really want to go out there?"

"I don't know," Ash shrugs.

"We'll see, okay?" Chris ruffles his hair and then pulls him closer to him. "I'm really glad you wanted to come to the show. I thought I was going to be on my own, but it's nice to know you're here rooting me on…you _are_ rooting me on, right?"

Ash laughs, "Yes! I want you to win, Dad."

"Good, that's what I was hoping to hear," Chris jokes with him and he's reminded why he stayed with Jessica in the first place. His kids are the most important things in the world to him and he knows the same holds for Stephanie and for all their drama and their angst, maybe, just maybe, at the bottom of all of that, they had the best intentions for the most important things in their lives.

"There it is," Ash points out Stephanie's name on the door and he doesn't want to by hyperbolic, but there's something in the way Ash says that, which makes him think that maybe Ash has a little bit of a crush on Stephanie.

"You like Stephanie, huh?" he has to ask, just to get Ash's opinion.

"She's nice," Ash bites his lip a little bit. He's getting to that age where girls aren't as gross as they used to be. Plus, Stephanie is a beautiful, warm, special woman and it's only fitting that his own son would have a crush on her considering his own feelings.

"I think so too. She's really funny too," he adds for no reason. He just wants to talk about her to someone, even if it is his own son. "She has a great smile too, like she lights up the world."

Maybe that was too much, but Ash doesn't seem to notice the tone of his voice, instead, he responds like a kid, "That's weird, Dad."

Chris laughs and they knock on the door at the same time, laughing at one another for doing the same thing. The door opens and Chris's heart is always in a vice whenever he sees her. It only takes a moment, but every time he gets to see her, it's like getting a little bit of the freshest air you've ever breathed. She takes a deep breath and smiles, opening the door. Chris expects to see Paul in there, but he's not. Linda is, however, and she gives Chris a grin, which he returns gladly.

"Linda, hello, I'm sorry I didn't really say hello last night," Chris apologizes, realizing he barely even noticed anyone else last night when Stephanie was on his horizon.

"It's quite alright," Linda says politely as she brushes Murphy's hair out of her eyes. Chris stares at the little girl. He's had his suspicions in the past, so many of them, but he's never voiced them for fear of what the answer may be. He looks at Stephanie and she's staring back at him, but as soon as their eyes really meet, she averts them and busies herself with Vaughn, who is tugging on the hem of her skirt, begging for a cuddle. Stephanie lifts her up easily and the little girl rests her head on Stephanie's collarbone. "It's nice to see you again, Chris. It's been too long."

"Yeah, it has," Chris tears his eyes away from Stephanie and focuses on her mother. Linda gives him a look and he knows she knows something or, at the very least, she suspects that something has happened. She's still brushing Murphy's hair gently out of her face and she looks down at the little girl again before looking imploringly up at Chris. "You look well," he stammers because she questions the question he refuses to ask himself.

"Have you met Murphy?" she asks. "I know you saw Aurora last night."

"Hi, Ash!" Aurora says brightly as she cuts in to say hi to Ash. She waves at him and then she comes over and grabs his hand. Now that she knows him, he's an instant friend. Luckily for her, Ash has not one but two sisters Aurora's ago so he's used to being dragged around by a younger girl. "I have a lot of wrestling toys if you wanna play with some! My mommy said that we can watch the show from the people!"

"Really?" Ash looks towards Chris and Chris looks to Stephanie and she nods.

She clears her throat before she speaks, sending a small glance to her mother, "Paul's parents wanted to be out there for his match and they suggested that Aurora be out there and when I said you were going to drop Ash by probably, I thought maybe…he would want to be there too."

With Paul's parents, that's pretty much the only thing that stuck out to him. He doesn't want to project what Paul thinks of him onto his parents, but he'd be remiss if he didn't think Paul had somehow talked about him in some negative light. He doesn't think they'll leave Ash to fend for himself, but he thinks…well, he doesn't know what he thinks. Part of him, an irrational part to be sure, feels like letting Ash be taken care of by Paul's parents is some sort of resignation that this is how things will be. He will let his son be with his worst enemy's parents and he will accept the woman he adores to distraction will always call those people her in-laws.

"Dad, can I?" Ash asks excitedly and he can't deny his son thing. If he did, what would be the excuse? 'Oh no, son, I'm sorry, you can't go out there because I'm in love with someone who isn't your mother and once upon a time, I wanted to tear you away from everything you knew, but it didn't work out so don't worry'?

"Yeah, sure, if it's okay with his parents," Chris looks again to Stephanie.

"Of course, they don't mind at all," Stephanie tells him and he nods. "Paul's not here, he wanted to have alone time."

"I understand."

"Hi," Murphy is suddenly next to him, looking up at him curiously. "I Murphy, who are you?"

"I'm Chris," he kneels down and finally looks into her face and sees what Linda saw. He looks up at Linda again and realizes she told the little girl to go to Chris. She knows and she's pushing and he can't understand why. Stephanie has committed herself to Paul, it's been clear since the moment she rejected him and he left and never looked back. Why would Linda do something like this? Why would she push where it's so clear that it's too much?

"I seen you wrestle," Murphy tells him. "You're good."

"He is good!" Aurora pipes in from where she's been sitting. "I watch it too."

"Thank you," Chris pats her shoulder. "I always appreciate having fans who root for me, they're really hard to come by."

Murphy smiles at him and he ignores it, "I like wrestling 'cause my mommy runs it."

"Yeah, she does," Chris smiles gently at Stephanie and she smiles gently back at him.

"And what does your daddy do?" Linda prompts her as the room gets considerably warmer for Chris. He desperately wants to be gone from here and pretend like he doesn't notice the subtleties in her face. He only prays that Ash is still too young to notice that there's something of a resemblance. But then, maybe he imagines them, prays for them because if there is some sort of connection so strong he dares not name it, he might have a chance.

"He wrestles," Murphy grins at him even wider and there it is and he stands up quickly.

"I better go, you know, I have a match too," he says to the room in general. He walks over to Ash and kneels down again. "You going to be okay, kiddo?"

"Totally," Ash says because he can adapt to any situation.

"You be good to Stephanie, mind what she says and what Mr. and Mrs. Levesque say. You aren't to wander off by yourself, alright?"

"I know, Dad, I won't," Ash nods solemnly. Chris leans forward to kiss the top of his head and when he stands up, he notices Stephanie has been watching the entire exchange with fascination. Upon seeing she's been caught, she looks down at the top of Vaughn's head. He wants to say the look is one of shame, but that is hoping too much.

"Thank you so much for taking care of him, Stephanie," he tells her and he says in such a way that implies he would have loved her forever if she'd only accepted him and his kids. He might just love her forever for the hell of it if his heart has its way.

"It's my pleasure, Chris," she nods at him. "I'll find you after your match so you can…well, what I mean to say is after the show, since he'll be out there, I'll find you…"

"Thanks," he waves at the room before leaving and he's only a short way down the hallway before a delicate hand is on his arm. He knows it's not Stephanie's because he knows her touch so well and when he turns, he's genuinely surprised to see Linda standing there. For someone who always looks so polished and demure, Linda has a fierceness inside of her that rivals every single one of the other McMahons, perhaps exceeds it.

"Can I talk to you for a moment, Chris?" she asks him and he doesn't know what to say, but he expects a barrage of feelings and anger and resentment towards him, but how can he say no? Besides, nothing has happened between him and Stephanie in so long it seems silly to be scared of her mother. He is not 15 and Stephanie is not a child either.

Linda leads him to an empty locker room so quickly she must have known it would be empty. "I'm sorry, did you need something, Linda?" he asks as he wishes to deflect whatever it is she has to say.

"My daughter doesn't keep secrets from me," Linda tells him. "She never has before. She's kept things from her father, her brother, even Paul, but she's never kept anything from me…you understand what I mean, right?"

He knows and he nods and he says, "Yes, I am fairly positive I know what you mean."

"It's not my place to make decisions for my daughter or to interfere in her personal liaisons—"

"Linda," he cuts off, "there's nothing going on between Stephanie and I right now, anything she told you about is over. She's with Paul and I respected that she made her choice. It was difficult, yes, I did have feelings for your daughter, I still do, but she made her choice and I had no choice but to respect what she wanted. I just want her to be happy, that's all I've ever wanted for her, Linda, all I will ever want for her."

"I'm happy to hear you say that."

"I won't interfere with what she has with Paul. I never had that intention. It wasn't even my plan to talk to her last night," Chris confesses. "I was just going to nod and maybe mouth hello. I didn't…"

"You didn't see my daughter's face when she saw you last night, when she hugged you. I saw it. For the past two years, something has been wrong with my daughter, something she tried to tell me, but could never really get out because I'm not sure she understands it herself," Linda looks over Chris's shoulder at something he's sure he can't see. "Whatever that was she couldn't tell me about disappeared for about five minutes last night…the five minutes she spent with you."

"Linda, I appreciate what you're saying and I thank you for not beating me up for doing what I did with your daughter—"

"I could never hate a man who loves a woman so completely he would give up everything for the mere chance of being with her," Linda interrupts him this time. "All I'm saying is that whatever happened in that last conversation…maybe you should give her the chance to answer your question."

"You knew what I asked her."

"I knew what you asked her," Linda confirms.

Then it dawns on Chris what Linda is doing here, why she would push Murphy to talk to him, why she would give him that knowing look, why she would be standing here right now, telling him what she's telling him. He voices it a moment after the clarity of her actions, "You know what the answer is." Linda simply looks at him, grabbing his hand and giving it an encouraging squeeze, one he is sure to remember years later, however this entire thing turns out.

"I know what the answer is. Now you have to find it out too."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews, I'm glad you're enjoying the story. As you can see with the updating, I'm kind of trying to streamline this one to get it out of the way so expect pretty frequent updates. I hope you like the chapter and reviews are always welcome. :)

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><p>He was a coward.<p>

That's the only way to really describe himself because even after Linda basically threw a whole lot of information into his lap, he did nothing about it. Instead, he went to his locker room and sat down on a bench. It was the nicer locker room, the guys who didn't have matches or who were in non-main events had another locker room in another part of the building. This locker room was spacious, nicer, and he had the ability to sit by himself and not be bothered. He spread himself across a bench and stared up at the ceiling, looking at the ceiling tiles.

He hears the cacophony around him, but he tunes it out. More than anything, he has a match to think about. He already knows the outcome, he will lose to Punk as that has been the plan the entire time. He knows he has to meet with Punk sometime before the show to get the final details ready for their match. They met up the night before after the Hall of Fame, huddled together in Chris's hotel room, and planned out how they wanted the match to work, what they both wanted out of it, and how they were going to play the crowd.

He was already proud of how the match was plotted out. Tonight, he just has to go out and execute everything the way he wants. He knows already that Mark and Paul are going to steal the show. He talked to Shawn last night about how the match was set to go and he can tell it's going to be a doozy. He's glad his match isn't directly after that one or else he and Punk would have to work ten times as hard. What they have planned is very much a wrestling match. There will be no nostalgia to fallback on, just the two of them, trying to duke it out, trying to be the best in the world.

He wants to go out there and prove himself. Yes, that might sound silly, but he wants to prove that he still has it, will always have it. If she just wasn't clouding his mind so much. He's got a huge, important match and all he can think about are Linda's words to him. He knows he could have asked her, but he also knows Linda would not have told him what Stephanie said. Linda would have gently to talk to Stephanie, to make her eyes light up like they did last night when he apparently wasn't looking.

He doesn't know why Linda told him what she did, what purpose was behind it. Does she want him with Stephanie? But she's going in for another Senate run and this would ruin her family's reputation. Stephanie's name would be drug through the mud and with it would come Linda's. What good could possibly come from all this? What would Linda get out of it if he found out the answer? He's still a coward though, lying there instead of seeking out Stephanie, demanding to know the answer.

Maybe he just doesn't want to know.

His brain flits to the converse, playing his own devil's advocate. What if Linda is wrong? Surely, there is cause for her to be wrong. There is no way she can be inside of Stephanie's mind. For all of Stephanie's actions, they are just that to Linda, actions. She does not know the thought behind them, only Stephanie does. Where Linda saw a light ignite in Stephanie, Stephanie might have felt the burning ash of pity and only she would have known. There is no way to get inside her head.

He's spent the last couple years trying to get over her. He's been the model husband (as much as he possibly could, which, at this point, probably wasn't very much) and he tried to do right by his children. He'd focused on anything and everything that was thrown his way in an attempt to not think about her. He'd succeeded for the most part, and where he didn't succeed, he gave a great facsimile of it. So this, now, it was too much.

"Chris, man, you got a second?" he hears Punk's voice above him and he turns slightly to the left as Punk nods at him. He's not in ring gear yet, but he's barefoot and standing, looking at Chris critically. He has no real beef with Punk, but they aren't exactly the best of friends.

"Yeah, I do," Chris says, standing up and stretching out his muscles.

"You ready for tonight," Punk shakes his hands, slapping it a little harder than necessary as they take a seat in a couple of folding chairs and lean in towards each other.

"Of course," Chris says, putting on the cocky façade that has served him so well over the years.

"Great," Punk says as he glances at Chris's locker. "Is that your new jacket for tonight?"

"Yeah, cost me an arm and a leg," Chris tells him, looking at the jacket and feeling awash with bitterness over something so inconsequential, but it involves Paul and whenever anything involves Paul, there's a bitterness there. This feeling is due to the fact Paul gets a huge, extravagant entrance while he had to pay for his own. It might not even be the entrance, just the idea that Paul is still using Stephanie to the best of his ability.

He tried for years to argue that point, to tell Stephanie Paul was using her. She insisted he did love her and while he didn't doubt there _was_ love in that relationship, he continuously saw Paul doing everything he could to get what he wanted. Chris wanted better for Stephanie even if it wasn't him. And if it wasn't him, he wanted her to be happily away from that guy who didn't appreciate her nearly enough.

"You still with me, man?" Punk asks him and Chris looks away from his jacket and back at Punk.

"Sorry," Chris mumbles, embarrassed his mind was elsewhere when they had such a big match coming up. He wishes he could focus on something else, but she always seems to pervade his thoughts.

"You okay?" Punk wonders, obviously concerned with whatever is going on his mind and with good reason. Nobody wants to go into a match with a guy who's distracted. That becomes a dangerous situation. There's potential for injury or worse and neither man can afford that.

"Yeah, I'm fine, sorry," Chris apologizes, "I was just thinking about entrances, but I'm here, don't worry."

"Okay, cool," Punk tells him, but Chris can tell he's not fully convinced. "I just wanted to go over the match with you one more time, the big spots at least, just to make sure we're on the same page."

"Absolutely, I want this match to be awesome," Chris smiles for the first time in what feels like days, but is really only hours and he and Punk end up having a great talk about what they want out of the match. More importantly, for a few minutes, it takes Stephanie out of his mind and lets him focus on something else than the words she might have said on that night years ago.

He still often thinks about what she might have said, but when he thinks of what she might have said in the positive, it flows straight down into every negative she could have told him and he's glad again that he didn't stay in that room to hear them. She'd already rejected him, he didn't need to hear any more than that. If she loved him like he loved her, she would have found a way to be with him like he'd found a way to be with her.

It wasn't easy to leave his wife. Maybe he made it look easy to Stephanie at the time, maybe he made it look like it was some easy decision to leave and start a new life, but it hadn't been. Whatever Jessica was, she was still an important person in his life and he'd made the conscious choice to leave that behind, to leave her behind. He'd never entered his marriage thinking he'd want out of it and when it happened, he felt like a failure, but he thought, God, did he think he might have something better waiting for him on the horizon.

He pushes these thoughts away again because he has to start getting ready. He's mechanical in his preparation, pulling his pants off slowly after kicking off his shoes. He's dressed up from his press conference earlier and it feels good to get out of his dress clothes. He slips on his trunks and sits down to put on his wrestling boots. They're so familiar to him now, worn, but tried and true. They have become such a part of him. As he's doing this, he can hear the roars from the crowd already. The dark matches are starting and he wonders if Ash is already out there. For some reason, he wants to see his son right now, as if to assure himself there is actually someone on his side.

He pulls on a t-shirt to cover his naked torso, but doesn't bother with shorts because why bother? He wrestles in his trunks and guys are always walking around in them. He sets off down the corridor back to Stephanie's office. He knows he's treading into dangerous waters, but if there's a chance his son is still backstage, he has to take it. He stands in front of her door for a solid minute before he knocks. It's timid and he wishes he had a second chance to knock, to sound more forceful than he just did.

Stephanie answers the door and she stares at him like she hasn't seen him in decades, but really, it's just surprise that he's back. "Chris," she breathes out.

"Hey, I was just wondering if Ash was still here."

"Who's there, Steph?" Paul's voice rings in both their ears and Stephanie sends Chris a sympathetic look and he can't stand it so he looks down and everywhere except where Stephanie is.

"It's Chris," Stephanie says shortly. "He's just wondering if Ash was still here."

"Who's Ash?" Hunter asks, but then amends that statement, "Oh, is that his kid?"

"Yes, that's his kid," Stephanie tells him sharply before stepping out into the hallway and pulling the door shut behind him. "He just wanted to talk to me for a minute. He's just in an intense mood because of his match."

"You don't have to explain it to me," Chris tells her and she doesn't. They're beyond that. He has no right to ask why Paul is there and he shouldn't care that the woman's husband wants to see his wife. It _is_ his wife after all. There's no reason for the jealousy starting to tingle in his toes to creep up his body as he wonders again what it is that Paul has that he doesn't.

He always thought himself a better person than Paul. He knew the guy's personality and he didn't have a lot of friends and Chris got along with everyone, which made him think he was just a better guy, but obviously, he wasn't. There must have been something in Paul that made Stephanie stick with him, something Chris didn't possess. Was it his lack of intensity? Chris just never saw the need to act like wrestling was the only thing in the world. He had so many dreams, he never wanted to limit himself to just one like Paul. But maybe that was enticing to Stephanie, maybe they just have the same beliefs and he can't see it through the haze of want for Stephanie.

"Yeah," she reminds herself and she looks up at Chris. "Ash is already with Paul's parents. He was actually really excited to see the show. Did you need him though? I can get someone to go get him if you needed him."

"No, I just wanted to talk to him."

"Oh, any reason why?" Stephanie asks curiously.

"Just wanted to know someone out there was really rooting for me," he answers with a chuckle.

"You know you have a lot of fans," she reasons with him and he nods, "but that's really sweet. He seems like a really good kid."

"He is," Chris agrees. "He thinks you're pretty."

"He does?"

"Yeah, he told me last night at the ceremony, when we sat down, he said he thought you were really pretty," Chris still doesn't really look at her, but he almost wishes he could look up and not feel like the ground was swallowing him up.

"That's really sweet of him," Stephanie says and he can hear the smile in her voice. "He's a sweet boy."

"Stephanie, are you coming?" Paul opens the door behind her. "Are you done talking to _him_?"

"Paul, would you just wait a second, I'm talking with the man about his son, could you just give us a minute?" she snaps at him. Paul huffs, but closes the door again. "I'm so sorry about him. He's just thinking about his match."

"Stephanie, really, you don't have to explain," Chris musters up the courage to really look at her and she does seem apologetic so he throws her a crooked smile. "I'll just see you later when I come to get Ash."

"Okay," she says and he detects a twinge of forlornness in her voice. He ignores it.

"Later, Steph," he turns to walk away, but she calls out to him before he's out of earshot.

"Bye, Chris and good luck."


	4. Chapter 4

__A/N: Thanks for all the reads/review/what not, hope you continue to enjoy the story, review if you want to! :)

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><p><em>Good luck<em>

He shouldn't let those two words spurn him on. He should forget the platitude, examine it for what it probably was, a simple two-word phrase simply meant as a way of getting away, of leaving him, of being polite. He shouldn't let those words become a mantra of sorts, rushing through his body as quickly as the adrenaline from everything else. He should be motivated by the sheer amount of people who want to see him, by the growing desire to have a good match, to upstage everyone else, but instead, her words ring through his head.

He lets them. He lets them course through him and strengthen his limbs because she wants him to do well. She might have been polite, there's a chance of it, but he ignores that chance in favor of believing she meant every syllable she said to him. He wants to carry those words with him as he walks to the ring and as he stands backstage, watching the matches preceding his, he lets it roll through him.

When Paul's match starts, she emerges from her office to watch it with the rest of the people around the immediate area of the gorilla. She stands a short ways away from him, and while he's trying to watch the match, his body keeps feeling her presence, as if she is an electrical field and he keeps getting zapped. He doesn't notice it at first, but her presence becomes bigger and bigger until he looks over and sees her right next to him. He's not even sure how she got there, but there she is.

"Hey," she says quietly, like saying hello to him is somehow illicit, but it's not, not anymore. Their hellos stay polite and detached, their emotions clearly in check.

"Hey," he responds back because he can't ignore her, he can never ignore her, it's not in his nature. He cannot just ignore everything they've had, even when he's tried to move on. It will linger there forever and he's accepted that, dealt with it, and is able to stand there with her.

"Are you ready for your match?" she asks such an innocuous question and he doesn't quite know why his heart aches at it, but it does. What was he really expecting her to say, to ask? Was he expecting her to grab the back of his neck and bring his lips down to hers like she had the first time? Of course not, but this question just seems so formal and it tugs at his insides like a rust fishhook, gutting him slowly as it twists and coils inside of him.

"Yeah, I'm getting pretty psyched up for it," he answers just as politely as she asked. He jerks his thumb towards the television screen broadcasting her husband's match. "He looks pretty good out there. The crowd is eating this up."

"He and Mark laid out a very good match," Stephanie tells him, and the words linger in the air, unspoken words that he picks and plucks out of the invisible rush of words between them. This is why her father loves Paul so much. Paul is so much about the business, so much about putting on a show, but the show is always just for Paul. When asked to make others look good, Paul is nowhere to be found.

Chris finds himself on a losing streak that will continue tonight, but he does not care one whit. He's more than willing to put people over, make other people look good. His fans will still like him, he will wake up tomorrow and think he has done a job well done, and that will be the end of it. He does not feel the need to push for glory. He's long since established that his ideal exit would be him being pulled forcibly from the ring, temper tantrum raging. He does not need what Paul so desperately seeks every time he goes out there.

"Yeah, I would say so," he says as he looks back at the television screen. "They're going to steal the show."

"You could still steal it," she says and he doesn't know if it's meant to reassure him, but it's a nice enough gesture anyways. It almost says she believes in him, maybe something like she believes in her husband enough to stay with him.

And there it is again and he is left wondering if the questions really will linger for years to come. Will he leave and then come back five years later, see her face, lock his blue eyes with her gray ones and ask the same questions? When do the questions leave him? Will they be the last thing to disappear? Will he sit in a wheelchair someday, his memories all but faded, and still ask himself what he had done wrong? He almost resigns himself to this fate, but hopes against hopes that the questions will be gone soon because he cannot bear them. He cannot bear the questions that come after the questions.

He questions himself, the very essence of who he is and what he's about. He wonders if he had made a minor change here or there, would his arm be around her and not stiffly by his side? "Thank you," he finally responds to her because it is polite to answer and he is all about the politeness right now because she is as well. "I don't know if we can, but thank you."

"I believe you can," she tells him softly, like she's afraid her words will travel like butterflies towards Paul and somehow reach him in the ring, rise the suspicion to the surface.

"It's nice to hear that, especially since I don't really have anyone here besides Ash who really believes in me. Jessica just didn't want to actually stay and watch me wrestling. She said that she'd seen me enough times," he tells her and it's not to make Jessica look bad and it's not to make Stephanie _feel_ bad, but it is what it is and he's only telling the truth.

"That's a shame because you're really one of the best to ever come through this company, hell, not just this company, but this business," she turns to him, looks up at him, and he can only tell because her eyes are blazing into the side of his face.

He turns to her because her gaze is so intense that he feels like a match set on fire. Her gaze is fierce and unwavering. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," he scoffs a little bit. "Your husband's match is almost over. You should probably go wait for him by the curtain." He gestures towards the curtain leading to the entrance for the ramp.

"He can wait," Stephanie says and he's confused as her tone lowers, "Can we talk after your match?"

"Talk?" he asks because he doesn't know what that means. It could really mean anything. Talking is something that people just do, but what could she possibly want to talk to him about? His mind flits back to Linda's words, but he's so sure Linda wouldn't say anything to Stephanie. It would feel like a violation of privacy if Linda told Stephanie that her own mother spilled whatever secret she was holding in.

"Yes, I want to talk to you," Stephanie tells him again, "when you come to pick up Ash…or before that, during Cena and Rock's match. Paul will already be at the party, he's showering as soon as this is over and heading over to the venue to make sure everything is going according to plan. He volunteered—"

"I'm not surprised," he lets it slip then instantly regrets the fact he said it. What it meant, what _he_ meant is that he is not surprised that Paul would cut out of here early, without regard for any other match except his own. He doesn't want to tell this to Stephanie so he tries to recover, "I'm sorry, I guess he volunteered because he wants the after party to be great."

"Yes, he does," she looks at him critically, her eyes going back and forth rapidly as if his face is in an open book and she's trying to speed read it. She drops it though because she asks another question. "You're coming, right?"

"What? To the after party?"

"Yes, of course, what do you think I meant?"

"I don't know," he responds, and it isn't because of her that he might not go, but the idea he'll have to see Paul gloating over his match certainly makes him feel like going even less. "I have Ash with me so I'm not really sure I want to go."

"You have to go, it's tradition," she nearly pleads with him, then pulls back, "but I'd understand if you felt like you couldn't, since you have him, but you know it's open to everyone. My girls will be there."

The way she says "my" trips on his stomach a little bit. There was a hesitation, almost imperceptible, like she has to swallow down another word she wants to use and why must this night, of all nights, be the night where things are starting to be questioned? Why is it now where he is being forced to confront truths he was so scared to even explore before? What has changed in the air?

"Maybe," he shrugs. "So what did you want to talk about? You never answered my question."

"Just…I just needed to discuss things," and he knows she's being evasive because of all the people around. She might not give him a true answer if they were alone, but she's certainly not going to give one in front of all the people milling about. He feels like they're alone though, like he could just focus on her, and everything else would fade away. Not a good place to be in when you have a huge match coming up, but he was never good at tearing himself away from Stephanie McMahon.

"Things," he says, trying not to sound dubious, but she's getting his hopes up and he hates her for it, except he can't hate her because hating her would feel wrong. He's tried hating her, but it never took. It felt wrong when he tried to hate her; it went against everything he felt, so no, he couldn't hate her, but he could still be skeptical.

"Yes, things," her eyes dart around again. "I owe you some explanations. I'm not so naïve as to think my mother leaving immediately after you did was a coincidence."

"So your mother has prompted you to talk to me?" he's bitter again, bitter because why, _why_ does this woman need to be pushed and coddled into making any kind of rational decision? "You know what, if that's the case, I don't want to hear what you have to say."

"It's not like that," she hisses, trying to keep her voice low when he knows all it wants to do is raise. When she gets heated, her voice slowly rumbles like an incoming storm.

"Isn't it?" he asks and he isn't sure where the anger is coming from exactly, but it's there and it's festering and he so wants to hate her, but even now, in the middle of a fight, he can't, he simply cannot hate her.

She closes her eyes, keeping her composure, though it must be rail thin at the moment, "No, it isn't. I've wanted to speak with you since you came back in January."

"I've been here months now, Steph," he tells her, "you've had plenty of opportunity."

"But not enough courage," she tilts her head up so she looks defiant, but he can tell she doesn't feel it. "You know I'm not the woman of my character, that I don't have that boldness, that I'm soft around the middle, you know this."

"Yes, what about it?"

"The me that I am has been working up everything…I've been…look, I can't do this here," she begs of him, "can you please just come talk to me after your match, please?"

"When you told me good luck, did you mean it or was it just something you said because you were being polite?" he asks out of the blue. She looks at him like he has a second head because he might as well have after completely changing the subject and asking her a silly question out of the blue.

"Of course I meant it," she tells him, shaking her head trying to understand the brevity of his question, "I want you to do well out there, but I know you will. You never disappoint, you've never disappointed me."

There's more to her words, but he doesn't have the time to analyze them. "Really?"

"Yes, Chris, really, I'm being truthful," she insists. He nods, knowing she's sincere.

"I'll meet you after my match."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and reads and what not. I'm feeling like this may stretch over a few more chapters, but probably not more than that, just to let you know. Thank you so much for reading it, and I hope you enjoy, review if you want to! :)

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><p>His match is just a distraction.<p>

What was supposed to be this grand stage is instead his impediment to Stephanie. Oh, it's not like he doesn't put his all into the match, he absolutely does. He can't go out there and not put his all into the match. He has to go out there and do his best. He owes that not only to himself, but to Punk, to the fans, to the company. Still, she is in the forefront of his mind, and she propels his every move.

He's not supposed to win, never cared that he was going to lose, but he just wants to put on a good show. He doesn't know where Ash is sitting, but just knowing his son's eyes are on him is enough. He wants Ash to be proud of him. He wants Ash to turn to Paul's parents and proudly declare that's his father, with enough pride to tear this entire stadium down. He wants them to see. He doesn't want to hurt them, he never intended to hurt anyone, but he's tired of the one being hurt.

He's not sure if Punk knows he's distracted. He tries to push Stephanie out of mind as he grapples, kicks, and punches. He knows Punk will tell him if he was after the match. Right now, he's just there, wondering what Stephanie is doing backstage. He's sure she's watching him. She _has_ to be watching him, unless Paul needs her. Paul put on a good match, with a story that captivated the entire stadium, made people stand on their feet and clap, cheer, and witness history.

He's not sure Punk and him are going to live up to that hype, but he wants people to remember this match all the same. He puts his best out there every time he goes out there. When the final pin comes, and the 1-2-3 is yelled, and Punk is holding up his belt, the match fades away, and Chris is only left thinking of Stephanie. After the match, that's when he was supposed to meet her. He opens up an eye and scans the crowd immediately in front of him, looking for Ash.

He doesn't see him, but wishes he could. Eventually, when Punk is done celebrating, Chris acts like he is groggily getting up. The referee moves to help him, but in his heel persona, he pushes him away, not accepting his help. There are smatterings of applause for him, those who respect what he's done here, that see this is a character he plays, and not that he's an actual jerk of some kind. He scans the crowd again and this time he sees Ash, standing on his chair a ways away, clapping wildly, Aurora standing next to him, emulating him and looking up at him like he's her hero. It's so appropriate they would become fast friends considering how fast he and Stephanie fell for each other.

He goes backstage, hoping she'll be there, but not expecting her to be. He doesn't know why he expects that she'll be gone. He maybe thinks it's the constant disappointment where Stephanie is concerned. So the surprise is real when he sees her sitting there, her headphones off, next to her father. She's staring at the curtain the wrestlers come to, and if he's not mistaken, her eyes light up when she sees him. She makes a move to stand up, but her father is getting up before her so she sits back and puts the headphones on.

"Chris, great match out there, congratulations," Vince says to him, shaking his hand. Chris shakes it and gives him a smile, but he's also trying to look over his shoulder at Stephanie. She's staring at him, biting her lip, and he hopes it's because she wants her father to get out of the way so she can talk to him.

"Thanks, Vince," Chris says.

"We're really glad to have you back."

Suddenly Stephanie appears at her father's side. "Yes, my father is right, we're really glad to have you back, for however long that is," she says, and it's meaningful, he can tell, but he can't tell her he knows so he just looks at her thoughtfully. "Dad, I was hoping to get a minute with Chris, if that's okay with you?"

"Of course, I should get back to the show, will you be back later?"

"I don't think so," Stephanie lets him know. I have some other things to take care of regarding Raw tomorrow, then the girls are going to come back, and we're going to head on over to the after party."

"Sounds good," Vince kisses her cheek and she smiles sweetly at her father, very much his little girl right then. Chris recognizes that look because it's the look Cheyenne and Sierra give him when he gives them kisses. Stephanie looks like she wants to reach for his hand, but she remembers herself and shakes her head slightly.

"Um, I have my own office, as you know, stupid me," Stephanie says, flustered obviously, and Chris doesn't know how to take that. He knows she gets flustered, but now she's flustered before talking to him, and this definitely means something. Why is he so nervous? He feels like he's on his first date, with butterflies flying so hard around his stomach, it feels like they're trying to relocate it to his chest. "We can talk there."

"That's fine," Chris says, grabbing a towel from the pile waiting for wrestlers to use them. He dries his face and neck first, rubbing the towel over his face, mostly so he doesn't have to look at Stephanie. He's not sure what to do with his hands or his voice, or really anything so he simply follows her.

They arrive at her office and Chris opens the door for her. It's empty, and he wonders briefly where Paul is, but he's probably in the shower, or talking with Shawn about how great the match was. He shouldn't care where the man is, but he does. He looks at Stephanie as she locks the door and turns around. "I don't want anyone interrupting our conversation."

He just nods. "I understand."

"I'm a coward," Stephanie says to start, and he isn't expecting her to just jump right into whatever it is she has to say. He kind of expected her to talk about the match, congratulate him, tell him how he was great out there.

"Oh," there isn't really anything to say to that, nothing he can think of anyways.

"I'm just a coward," Stephanie says again, but this time she punctuates her words with a sigh. "I spent so long thinking about doing the 'right' thing, you know, by everyone…except you."

"Huh?" Apparently, his vocabulary has dropped down to syllables and grunts.

"I didn't want to ruin my mom's campaign, I didn't want to hurt Paul, I didn't want the scandal surrounding me, I didn't want to bring shame on my family, I didn't want the world to know…excuse after excuse after excuse, that's all they were, excuses. I have no excuse for the way I've behaved towards you."

"I see," and he doesn't really see, it's just something to break up her speech because he's uncomfortable. They're not even sitting yet, they're both still just standing there, him in the middle of the room while she stands close to the door. She's wringing her hands, which he's never seen her do so the level of nervousness she has inside of her must be off the charts.

"And you shouldn't forgive me," Stephanie continues, and he wants to stop her right there, but she presses on, "you really shouldn't because of all the things I've done, your forgiveness is the one thing that shouldn't be freely given. I'm a horrible person."

She says it with such earnestness and sincerity that Chris has to do something. He shakes his head, walking towards her, like he's always done. He will always walk to her, run to her, do anything for her. She holds her hand up though, right when he's there, right when he's about to make his move, and if this is her punishing herself, he wants to slap her hand away and take her into his arms anyways. He's never been rational when it comes to Stephanie.

Rational would be an angry reaction, one that came from his gut, something primal and terrible. Rational would be pushing her out of the way, cursing her out, suing her for a paternity test on Murphy and Vaughn, taking fully custody, and never speaking to her. Okay, that was probably not _rational_, but most people would think that should be the appropriate reaction. Except he is not a normal guy and she isn't a normal girl, and they've accepted that they do not lead normal lives.

And that's not what love should be about. It shouldn't be about rational and doing the right thing or feeling the right way. It needs to be about forgiveness, even when the forgiving seems like a mountain in front of you. He wants to forgive her if she would just let him talk. He's tired of wasting time, and the look in her eyes is agonizing. She believes every word she's saying and he knows her, he knows she will punish herself for the rest of her life if she thought it would atone for everything she's done.

"You're not horrible," he tells her softly, his words finally coming back.

"Except I am, and everyone seems to know it," Stephanie told him, "that's why my mom went after you, to try and atone for _my_ wrongdoings."

"That's not," he can't even finish because she's waving him off again.

"Chris, I _know_ why she went after you. I'm not blind."

"Is that why you wanted to talk to me?" he asks because he needs to know. Was it just her mother's stepping in that prompted her to talk to him? Would she have never asked, _begged_, for his forgiveness if her mother hadn't talked to him first?

"In a way, yes. My mother talking to you, it made me realize how much of a chicken I am," Stephanie tells him, shaking her head in disgust at herself. "It shouldn't be her talking to you, and I'm embarrassed over whatever she said. I'm embarrassed because whatever she said is something _I_ should be saying."

"I can agree with that," he says lightly, trying to ease her tension, but that's not going to happen. Her shoulders keep hunching up towards her ears, and it's giving her this defeated position that he just can't bear.

"And I think the guilt would have eaten me up inside to the point where I wouldn't have just talked to you, I would have blurted it out to the world, so my mother actually did me a favor."

"I think I would have liked to have seen you blurt it out to the world," he smirks as she giggles a little bit.

"I'm sure you would have," Stephanie laughs at herself. "I'm still horrible, Chris. And I'm sorry. I can't say it enough, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for everything. I'm sorry for making you think I didn't want you, I'm sorry for not choosing you, I'm sorry for making you lose time with the girls, I'm sorry for making you have to see me and Paul, I'm sorry for driving you away because I know half of the reason you left the last time was because of me, hell, it could have been all because of me, I'm sorry for being stupid and letting my _mother_ talk to you about things, I'm sorry—"

It's about at the 50th "I sorry" she gives him that he just has to cut her off. He strides towards her, then presses his finger to her lips, shushing her. "Stephanie, stop it. We all make mistakes."

He sounds like a public service ad and wishes his words could somehow be more profound, but they aren't. "Yes, people make mistakes," Stephanie looks up at him, straight in the eye, like a dagger, "I made catastrophic volcanoes of failure."

He closes his eyes as his lips turn up into an amused smile, "How about you try being a little more dramatic next time?"

"Chris, I'm serious here."

"I know you're serious, I know you think what you've done is horrible, and on some level it is. But, I sat back and let you do it."

"You loved me."

"Love you, present tense," he corrects her, and a blush blossoms over her cheeks, "but I could have fought and I didn't, not hard enough. I know that you're going to say that's nothing to what you did, but we both fell into these ruts, telling ourselves they were okay. What do you want out of this conversation, Stephanie?"

"I want to be with you," she immediately answers. "I want to be with you and not with Paul. I want to divorce him, get a paternity test for the girls, then be with you."

"Okay, well, I want that too, but this is jumping in, and when we do that, nothing good has come of it. I'm going to suggest something, hear me out?"

"Of course."

"I want to put this conversation on pause for at least 24 hours," he starts. She starts to say something, but he won't have it. "I'm not saying to forget. I'm saying that all of this came up really suddenly, and we should think about it. Give us time, both of us, time to think about what we really want. We'll talk again, and if it's the same thing after we've thought about it, then we can proceed."

"You mean if we both want each other?"

"Yeah," he nods.

"So we go to the after party and act like nothing is different?"

"Yes, you have the girls, I have Ash," Chris says, "we just have fun tonight, then we think, and tomorrow, if we're on the same page, we'll get things rolling."

"Okay," Stephanie agrees, "anything you want Chris, I've hurt you so much."

He kisses her, mostly to shut her up, but because he wants to feel her lips on his. It's chaste, just his lips against hers, but she moans anyways. "I know you have, but tomorrow, when we talk, if we want the same thing, I want you to understand and do one thing."

"What's that?"

"Stop apologizing."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks for reading the story, I think it'll be wrapping up soon, I hope to try and get that done as quickly as possible, but who knows, I may want to stretch this out too, we'll see. Hope you enjoy, reviews are appreciated! :)

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><p>He really doesn't <em>need<em> time to think.

Thinking implies that it might not be something he wants. This is not true, and it has never been true. He has wanted her since the first moment his eyes laid on her. Sure, he didn't exactly realize it then, but he believes that it was there, lingering under the surface. He knows Stephanie is it for him, as surely as he knows he's a wrestler. He knows that she is what he wants, that she is what he desperately needs, but he understands that time to think is something they need. They need the separation, actually, _she_ needs the separation.

It's not that Chris doesn't accept Stephanie's feelings or thinks they are false. He doesn't. Her voice, dripping with sincerity, convinced him that she was being as truthful as she possibly could be. Her words were not spoken in some vain attempt to appease him, to make Linda's actions seem justifiable. He believes her words are true, that her feelings are there, and that somehow, someway, she has finally gotten over the abject fear that pools in her gut whenever she thinks about the two of them finally getting their chance.

He's really only giving her an out.

He doesn't want this decision forced on her. He knows a lot of it has to do with what Linda did, Stephanie herself admitted as much. He believes her, at least partly, when she says she would have said something eventually. He just doesn't know when eventually would have been. It's such a vague word, _eventually_, everything in the entire universe could be an eventually. Eventually, the mountains will crumble to the sea, eventually, the sun will die, eventually, eventually, eventually. He doesn't know when her eventually would have been, and so he's giving her this. He's giving her a way out of this.

He doesn't need an entire night to think. If he had his way, she would be coming home with him tonight. Even so, there is so much to be done if she does decide this is truly what she wants. His mind dizzies just thinking about it. He leans his head against his locker, closing his eyes. Everyone just thinks he's reflecting on his match, but that's not it at all. His match is over, it went well, Vince congratulated them, Punk shook his hand. It's over, there's no use dwelling on it for now. Later, he'll watch, he'll find what he did right, what he did wrong.

His mind is just on her, just as it always has been. He thinks about what tomorrow might bring. He thinks about what will happen if she chooses to go forward with him. There will be so much to do, so much to think about. He'll have to talk to Jessica, she'll have to talk to Paul, they'll have to talk to their kids, their parents, their friends. Everyone will have to know. They will have to start divorce proceedings, custody agreements, so many things will be set in motion, but he knows she's worth it. She is worth all the trouble she has ever given him.

He wants to say he's not a hopeless romantic, but he kind of is. It's kind of in his bones, and he can't change that. He would sweep her off her feet if she will allow him to do so. He kind of wants to when he thinks about it. He kind of wants to because he hasn't gotten the chance to, and if given said chance, he wants to make every moment memorable. Oh God, one chance, she's giving him one chance and he's already acting like a lovesick fool. But that lovesick fool feeling kind of feels like soaring so he goes with it.

"Hey, dude," Chris opens one of his eyes and sees Adam standing there.

"What's up, man?" Chris asks.

"Oh, show's almost over, and Trip's parents brought Ash back, Stephanie told me to come tell you," Adam chuckles. "I swear, that woman can get anyone to do anything. She's so damn persuasive. I was on my way to the party, but she flashes those eyes at you…"

Adam clearly knows what's going on. It's in the way he looks at Chris. He wonders just how much everyone knows. Adam is his friend, though, so maybe he hasn't been as obvious as he thinks he has. "Thanks, man."

"Was a little surprised she didn't come after you herself," Adam pats Chris on the shoulder as he stands up. Chris wants to flip him off, tell him to mind his own business, but he doesn't because he knows Adam means well. He can't possibly know of the conversation he had with Stephanie a short while ago, so this must be something he's been keeping inside for a while.

"Why is that?" Chris challenges him to say something, to confess what's really brewing in his brain.

Adam just shrugs, "Nothing, just thought she might want to see you is all."

"Yeah, okay," Chris knows that's not what he was talking about, and somehow he knows Adam knows that Chris knows that's not what he's talking about, but he lets the other man go without another word.

He walks down the hallway, taking in the congratulations from the other people backstage, but making it clear he has to go get his son. They're waiting for him near the gorilla. Stephanie has the kids near her as Aurora and Murphy try to talk over each other about everything they've seen. His eyes linger over Murphy for a moment before Ash crashes into him with a hug. He diverts his attention away from Murphy for a moment so he can hug his son back.

"Did you have fun out there, buddy?" he asks and Ash nods enthusiastically.

"You were awesome, Dad, I really liked your match," Ash beams. "I think the people sitting around me liked it too because they were all cheering for you even though you were supposed to be the bad guy."

"Wow, I'm really glad," Chris tells him, hugging him again. He looks up to see Paul's parents standing there, smiling at their grandkids and he fells compelled to thank them, "Thank you for watching Ash for me, Mr. and Mrs. Levesque."

He has already realized he is about to crush these people, and he is not without remorse. He understands there is going to be hurt hurling at him from all sides with what he is about to do. He will break these people's hearts, and they will never look at him the same again. He wishes he could feel worse, but he has spent so many nights feeling so low that his own happiness and Stephanie's happiness are really the only thing he can think of right now. It may be selfish, but he thinks he's earned being a tiny bit selfish. He is also a big believer in the idea that time heals everything. Eventually, things will blow over, they always do. There is always going to be scandal in the world, it's how you move past it that matters. Everyone will eventually get over it.

"Dad, are we going to the party now?" Ash asks.

"Yeah, buddy, we're definitely going to party now."

He catches Stephanie's eye as he and Ash walk past her and she gives him a small smile. The smile encourages him, makes him think she isn't going to take the out he's offering her. He smiles back at her, a secret one, one that tells her, he hopes, that he isn't thinking about changing his mind. He knows she thinks he will change his mind or tell her that she's too late, that it's all too little, but he would never tell her that, he would never think that.

"Did you have fun with Aurora and Murphy?" Chris asks his son as he gathers his things and they walk to the car to get to the party. He wants to gauge how his son interacts with the two girls because if everything works out, he'll be spending a lot of time with the two of them and he wants to make sure his kids will transition easily…or as easily as they could considering they are about to add three more children to their family, two of whom will be their blood siblings.

"Yeah, they're okay," Ash shrugs. "I mean, they're girls, and we have _so_ many girls already, Dad."

"I know, buddy, I'm sorry about that," Chris laughs, glad for his son's casualness right now. He needs it so it keeps his mind off what may come tomorrow. "Did they like you?"

"Yeah, they did, Aurora likes to talk a lot, but that's okay, it's just like Cheyenne and Si-Si. I think they would like Aurora because they're all the same age."

Chris is even more encouraged when Ash says that. They spend the car ride in relative silence, the music really the only noise there. When they arrive, Chris makes a beeline for the bar, not to get a GG (he's with his son), but to get something for Ash to drink. He gets a soda for the boy and one for himself before they make the rounds. People are still congratulating him, and it's not difficult to see the pride in Ash's face. It makes him proud to see that Ash is as into this as he is. When he was a little boy, he wasn't that interested in what Chris did, but Chris can see it now. He can see the interest and it stirred something inside of Chris.

He feels her when she breezes in. She's one of the last ones there by proxy of her family having to be there until the end of the show. His eyes flow over her, watching her as Paul walks in behind her. He's holding Murphy, and Chris feels that pang of hurt he's felt so many times before settle in that same, old spot. It hurts, but the hurt doesn't have to last for much longer. Tomorrow will bring things anew. He vows that by the next WrestleMania, it will be him carrying in Murphy.

Stephanie's eyes are scanning the crowd, he can see them darting back and forth. They fall on him and she looks like she wants to ignore everyone else in the room and fly to his arms. Instead, she waves, half-heartedly, like she's trying to hold down her emotions because he can tell she is. He can tell the night will be difficult for her, like it will be difficult for him. Ash tugs at his hand then, wanting to go talk to his favorite wrestlers and Chris lets him lead him over to where he wants to go.

His eyes try not to leave Stephanie, but it's difficult to keep his attention on her so he lets his eyes wander away from her for now. He enjoys the evening, trying not to dwell on what tomorrow may bring. His eyes find her every so often, but she's always doing something so they never meet eyes. She's either talking to someone, eating something, talking to one of the girls. He almost feels detached from her, but he knows she's trying to keep her distance.

Until she's right in front of him.

"Are you guys having a good time?" she asks, but the question is directed at Ash more than it is him.

"Yeah, it's fun seeing all the wrestlers, it's kind of like the Hall of Fame, but kinda not as boring," Ash whispers to her and she smiles at him.

"I understand, sometimes sitting through long speeches can get boring," Stephanie whispers back in a conspiratorial manner. Ash grins at her and Chris can't help but grin as well. He knows what she's doing. She's trying to ingratiate herself into his life, and he appreciates it. It will come in handy when they have to talk to the kids, all of them. He knows she'll want to do the best for them, and he wants it too. Luckily, kids are adaptable.

"It was," Ash says, but looks embarrassed, sparing his dad a glance. Chris just ruffles his hair.

"I'm glad you liked the show tonight," Stephanie continues her discussion with Ash. "What was your favorite match?"

"The one with my Dad," Ash tells her obviously and proudly. "He was the best in the world, I don't care what Punk says, I think my dad's the best, he's held all the belts before."

"You want to know something?" Stephanie asks him and he nods eagerly. "That was my favorite match too."

"Dad, did you hear that?" Ash says excitedly, his eyes glowing as he looks up at Chris expectantly. "Stephanie really liked your match, the best of _everyone_. Wait, Stephanie, did you even like it better than Aurora and Murphy's dad? Aren't you married to him?"

Stephanie stares up at Chris. He's looking at her expectantly, but he already knows what she's going to say. They don't need the extra time, he knows it now. It's a formality now. She doesn't need an out. She doesn't want that out. She will simply let the time run down until they meet again, and things are going to go his way. For once, everything is going to go his way.

"I did like it better."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and such. I feel like this will probably wrap up soon, just to let you know. Hope you enjoy, and reviews would be lovely. ;)

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><p>Chris lays in bed that night and he can't really sleep. He doesn't know if it's from nerves or from excitement. He isn't sure he wants to delve that deep. Tomorrow, everything in his world can change, and that's a frightening, yet exhilarating prospect. But there's a part of him that remains skeptical. He's spent nights like this before, nights where he stays up, stares at the ceiling and imagines Stephanie coming willingly into his arms. Then he goes to sleep, only to wake up and find the world hasn't changed. He's afraid that when he wakes up the world isn't going to change.<p>

So he stays up, lying there, one arm tucked behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling, the moonlight from the slight crack in the curtains casting a soft glow about the room. He can hear Ash breathing from the bed next to his own, but he lets it fall into the background as his mind races continuously towards the invisible finish line that may appear tomorrow. If he doesn't sleep, maybe this entire world won't disappear, a world where there's hope and possibility and an ending he so desperately wants.

He knows it's going to be difficult if she chooses him. He was so sure of it earlier, but during the night, anything can happen. Your brain can happen. He wishes that you could turn off your brain, go completely on whatever adrenaline propels you forward, but you can't because your brain is the control center, it does everything, and right now, her brain could be talking her out of this. If she goes through with this, it will only be the beginning. Admission is only the beginning, and the easiest part. She'll be thinking about that, he knows. She'll be thinking about all the hard parts that will come after this.

They will have to tell people. First and foremost, they'll have to tell their spouses. Paul and Jessica will need to be told, and Chris doesn't know how that will work. Will Stephanie come with him to see Jessica, will he go with her to see Paul? He can't really fathom going to talk to Paul and not having a fight erupt. After that, and that _will_ be difficult, they have to tell the children, all six of them. There will be varying degrees of understanding, and they will have to think of them first, always. Then what happens?

Then they have to start the divorces, then they have to start telling people, then they have to move, and if they move, where? Do they move in together immediately or do they wait a while, wait until the kids are comfortable? What do they do with the kids' custody? Where exactly will they live, someone will have to move, someone will have to sacrifice. There will be backlash, there will be taunting, there will be angry words, and disgusting words, and words he would never want to hear again.

He almost felt like he was psyching himself out and so he pushes himself from his bed and sits up. He glances over at Ash, and when he's satisfied seeing his son sleep for a second, he stands from the bed and pads his way over to the mini-bar. He knows he shouldn't even go in here with his son in the room, but he can't help himself. He feels himself shaking, and it's not because he's cold. His nerves are shot to hell. Something feels different this time. This time he's almost certain he won't wake up with the world unchanged. He believes that things will be different, but that can be just as terrifying as never being with her.

He grabs two mini-bottles of vodka, the brand doesn't even matter to him and he goes over to the small table where two glasses sit. He grabs one and dumps the vodka into it. He goes into the other room and sits on the couch, in the pitch black, with a glass of straight vodka perching precariously in his hands. He swishes the clear liquid around a little bit before he takes his first sip. It burns down his throat, but he likes it that way. He wants to feel the sting of it.

He wants to call her, to talk to her, but he knows he can't. She's probably sleeping, and she's probably still with…he takes another sip of his drink, trying to replace the image burning in his brain with more liquid fire burning his throat. He thinks for a moment, wondering if she really is in bed with him. It would be hard to explain not sleeping with her husband, but Chris hopes, wishes really, that she isn't. It doesn't feel right to sleep with your husband one night, and the next have someone else in your bed, not that he thinks he'll immediately find a place in her bed, but it's the principle of the thing.

Things are so complicated, and he wants it to unravel in an easy way. If only life could be that easy. If only this had happened years ago then he wouldn't be sitting here in the dark, drinking a glass of vodka he took from the mini-bar while his son sleeps 20 feet away. He could already be in bed with her, kissing her forehead and running his hand up and down her back. He tilts his head back against the back of the couch and sits there for a few minutes.

"Dad?"

Chris turns his head up and sees Ash illuminated by the light he turned on. "Hey, kid, what are you doing up?"

"I was going to get a glass of water, but you weren't in bed, I thought you might have left or something," Ash explains, rubbing his eyes.

"I'd never leave you alone in a hotel, kid," Chris tells him, "I was just sitting here and thinking. I didn't want to wake you up. Did you want me to get your water for you?"

"No, I can get it," Ash responds. He turns slightly as if to leave, but then decides against it and turns back towards his father, "Are you okay?"

"What?" Chris wonders if he's that transparent, and he figures he is since Ash is looking at him with slight concern. He doesn't want to involve the kids right now. There will be time for that later, and it's a sensitive subject even at the best of times.

"You just look kinda sad, and you're sitting in the dark," Ash shrugs. It was a little weird to see his father just sitting there, kind of scary actually.

"I'm not sad," Chris says, and he's not, he has too much hope inside of him to be sad right now, "I'm just thinking about some things."

"Your match?" Ash fields a guess.

Chris shakes his head, "No, not my match, I was really happy with how my match turned out. I'm just thinking about some other things that might be coming up tomorrow. It's nothing you need to worry about, I promise. We're going to have a blast tomorrow. You get to come to Raw with me, and not go to school, I mean, that's pretty cool, don't you think?"

"Yeah, it is pretty cool," Ash nods. He rarely gets to miss school to go to things with his dad, so this is extra special. Still, Chris can tell that Ash is worried about him, and while he's touched with his son's concern, he doesn't want to spill the beans so to speak.

"And you don't want to be tired, so you should probably get back to sleep."

"Dad, Mom doesn't like Stephanie, does she?" Ash asks out of the blue, and the question has such sharp edges, Chris feels like he's pinned back against the couch. He wasn't expecting that, but Ash has always been observant and astute. He knows what's going on, and like his father, he was willing to call people out on it.

"What makes you say that?" Chris asks, partly to stall his son from getting any answers and partly because he's actually curious as to what Ash can see when he looks at him and Stephanie. If his almost nine year old son can see it, they _really_ haven't hidden it well.

Ash shrugs, "I don't know, she just didn't seem like she liked Stephanie. I liked her though, she's really nice, and she's funny, and she's pretty too."

Chris smirks. It sounds almost like his son has a crush, and he can't blame her, he's had a crush on Stephanie almost since the day he met her all those years ago. He cannot imagine any man, gay or straight, who wouldn't fall instantly in love with Stephanie, whether is be platonic or romantic love, you just can't help it. The warmth that Stephanie exudes, it's magnetic, and he might be the lucky bastard who gets to keep that warmth everyday for the rest of his life. He sure as hell hopes he is.

"You like her, don't you?" Chris asks him teasingly. Ash has the right sense to actually start blushing a little at his father's words.

"She's really nice," Ash simply says.

"I like her too, like I told you," Chris admits and his own face starts to feel flush, but for entirely different reasons. He's known Stephanie's touch, he's seen her face contorted in pleasure, and his feelings run so deep, they make the Grand Canyon seem like a shallow pond. "I actually like her a lot."

"How much is a lot?"

"I don't think I could describe it," Chris doesn't know why he's telling his son this, but maybe the transition has to start now. Maybe he has to start with his oldest so that when the change comes down like a guillotine, Ash will be prepared.

"Do you like her more than Mom?"

Now _that_ is a difficult question because Chris knows the answer, and he knows that yes, he likes Stephanie more than Jessica, but telling his son that is an entirely different thing. There has to be sensitivity with this answer. "I like her in a different way than I do your Mom," Chris answers slowly and gently. "It's just different, that's all."

"I don't like it when you and Mom fight," Ash tells him, and once again, Chris is shocked at his son's words. He's also ashamed though, ashamed that their fighting has infiltrated his kids' lives. They should have known better than to let their petty fights escalate into major blowouts.

"I don't like it much either," Chris confesses. "I'm sorry you have to hear that, kid, that's not what your mom and I want. We would never want you to feel caught in the middle of things when we fight."

"Why do you fight?"

"I'm not sure," Chris tells the truth. He's not sure where everything went wrong with Jessica. It would be easy to blame his affair with Stephanie, but it's not that simple. It was just one of those things, one of those things where you thought you found _it_, but _it_ was lurking around the corner, lying in the soft depths of gray-blue eyes. "But I don't want you to worry about it, I promise you, everything will work itself out somehow."

"Are you sure?" Ash punctuates his question with a jaw-popping yawn.

"Yes, now we both better get to bed," Chris downs the rest of his drink, not even feeling it this time, and sets the glass on the coffee table before ushering his son back to sleep. "Now get some sleep."

"My water," Ash mumbles as his eyes go back to the bathroom where the light is on. Chris goes inside and avoids his own reflection. He knows what he'll look like because he's been here before, been on the waiting end. His eyes will shine with want, and he'll stare, and the hope will flare. He doesn't want to jinx it, doesn't even want to breathe in hope that this time he won't look back in the mirror later and only see emptiness. He gets his son's water and brings it back to him. Ash takes a sip and then falls back into his pillow, and he nods off in no time at all.

Chris follows suit, climbing back into bed, and he wonders if Ash's words were an indication that he and his sisters would adapt well to a change in environment. It's a possibility, and the hope flares in his chest again. Sure, there's a lot they have to wade through, but maybe it won't be as hard as he thought it was earlier. Maybe it won't be smooth sailing, but it could be something they could weather a lot easier than he thought.

He now wishes for the morning sun.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and such. This story is really winding down now. This will be the second to last chapter, and the next chapter will be an epilogue of sorts, so you can sort of consider this done, but not quite. I hope you enjoy the chapter, reviews are love! :)

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><p>Morning arrives soon enough and too soon all at the same time. When there's a situation that can go two different directions, time is an enemy and a friend, both at the same time, ticking by until it's up. For Chris, and subsequently Stephanie, time was up, and it was time to be figure out what happened next. Next, such a simple yet daunting word; it could encompass the entire world or nothing at all.<p>

Chris drops Ash off with Jay, who promised to watch him for the morning so Chris can meet with Stephanie. That's not to say Jay knows he's going to meet with Stephanie, but that's where he's heading. They agreed to meet at a small restaurant, diner really, a few blocks away from the hotel. It's risky to be out in public the day after WrestleMania, when so many fans are still in town, but it's also risky to stick around the hotel.

He takes the necessary precautions, puts a hat over his head, sunglasses, with a little overgrowth so he looks scruffy. He dresses down, a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, nothing flashy, nothing that screams Chris Jericho. He downplays his own movements, shoves his hands in his pockets and keeps his head down. He hopes this is enough to deter any fans. He wishes for nothing more than to be a regular person for the next few hours.

Being so low-key also gives him a few moments to reflect. He refuses to think of himself as a man on his way to his own hanging. He's thought that too many times, and all those times, he was right. Perhaps, if just once he thinks that things will end up positively, they _will_ end up that way. He laughs at himself for thinking that the world could be so simple, that one thought would levy a whole series of regrets.

When he arrives at the diner, he's the first one there, and for a moment, he panics, wondering if Stephanie will show up at all. They agreed on the time, and Stephanie never late. She prides herself on her professionalism and her punctuality. His voice is low when he requests a table for two, mumbling that he's expecting someone. It seems like everyone in the place asks. The hostess asking how many there are, the waitress asking if he needs another place setting, the busboy asking if he can take away the other glass. Everyone keeps reminding him that he's always been the one waiting for her.

Sad enough, that is how it's always been. He's always been the fighter, trying to fight for their relationship, and she's always been the one who bows out of the fight. What makes him even think this time is going to be different? Oh yeah, it was because she made it seem different. She made it seem like this was actually something that could happen. He's kidding himself. She'll never do it; she'll never find the courage. He's about to set his menu down and leave with his tail between his legs when she walks in, looking harried and quickly scanning the room.

When she spots him, she walks over quickly, seating herself unceremoniously. "I'm so sorry I'm late, Vaughn decided to be clingy this morning, and she would not let me go anywhere," Stephanie explains, and she has the look of an exasperated mother. "I finally got her to go with my mother."

"Not Paul?" Chris asks because he's a masochist who likes to ask if his children are with the man they think is their father. He sees her cringe, but maybe she needs to cringe in order to see how messed up this situation is. If she's not swayed yet, he has to find a way to sway her, and he's not above dirty tactics anymore. He spent an entire night thinking about her, thinking about how this could be the day, and he will not give up without a fight, a strong one if necessary.

"No," she answers succinctly, "where's Ash?"

"He's with Jay. Jay agreed to watch him for the morning," Chris says, "so why wouldn't the girls stay with Paul." And why is he pushing this? Is it because he wants to punish her? No, he would never…except he does a little, just a little bit. He likes to think of it as him pushing her towards the truth.

"No, he's still recovering from his match yesterday," Stephanie again answers succinctly, and Chris is starting to suspect that there's more to this story, but he's not willing to go there without her initiating it. He wants her to fight as much as he's fought. "How are you?"

"Sore, but fine," Chris tells her, "I'm in the ring a lot more than Paul is nowadays, I can still handle it. Punk and I had a great match, we were both really happy with how it went down. I'm proud of him."

"I'm proud of you," she tells him, reaching across the table to grab his hand. It's only now that he realizes she's not disguised like he is. Her hair is pulled out of her face, and she's wearing very sparse makeup, just enough to make her look beautiful, but not enough to stifle her natural beauty. She's wearing a WWE production t-shirt, slightly too big on her slim form, and she's almost advertising who she is.

And she is grabbing his hand in public, where anyone can see.

"Thank you," he doesn't know what else to say because he's staring at her, at the way she seems so at ease with him now, here, in public, where anyone can see. He suddenly becomes paranoid, thinking that surely everyone in the restaurant will be looking at them. He glances around, but everyone is into their meal, and if they've noticed who's eating over here, they haven't said anything yet.

"Can I get you something to drink?" the waitress comes over, appraising his company, as if she thought Stephanie might not be real.

"We'll both have coffees, and he'll also have an orange juice," Stephanie answers for the both of them.

"Do you want to order now too?" the waitress inquires.

"I guess so," Stephanie quickly glances over the menu. "I'll have the Belgian waffle with a side of sausage and a fruit bowl."

"I'll have the Denver omelette with a side of bacon," Chris answers, glad the waitress is leaving. "So…"

"So," she mimics his word, dragging it out so it lasts a few syllables. "You know, you always think that a talk is going to be harder than it is, but I'd say this is pretty much how I imagined this going."

"You're leaving me," he blurts out because the winds of change never seem to breeze over his face. He has been locked away for so long, he just assumes that he's going back into the cupboard, a toy she only uses when she's bored. "Look, you don't have to say anything. We'll just eat breakfast and we'll—"

"Talk, we'll talk until we're blue in the face," Stephanie interrupts, "because there are a million things we need to discuss. The first thing though, paternity tests for Murphy and Vaughn. We need to get that squared away first."

The information comes too fast, too hard-hitting, that it almost feels like a jumble of words spewed at him at an alarming rate. "Excuse me?" he asks because he's kind of sure he went momentarily deaf, and if not deaf, then he's having some sort of episode that alters the real world. Maybe someone slipped him some LSD in his water.

"For the girls, we need to get that taken care of because I'm not sure how to go about changing a birth certificate, I bet it's a lot of paperwork."

"You're…choosing me?" he blinks because the words don't feel right. It's not to say that he doesn't want them to be true. Oh how he wants them to be true. He has never wanted anything to be truer in his entire life, but this is not how it's been between them. This goes against every protocol. He's supposed to push.

Stephanie's supposed to walk away.

"I chose you yesterday," Stephanie smiles softly, her lips quirking up at the sides as if she's regarding a fond memory. "You just wanted to spend the night thinking about it. All I've done all night is think about what comes next."

"With us?"

"That was the plan," Stephanie tells him, and he's still not sure he's hearing right. "I'm tired of wasting time, I'm tired of becoming a coward. I don't want to be a coward, Chris, not anymore. I'm surrounded by all these men and women who go into the ring and they throw themselves around, and I'm sitting here afraid of what people will say about me when they already say all they want? It's time I own up to who I am."

"With me?" He's still just completely stupefied, and he doesn't quite know how to react. Does he sit here? He's doing that. Does he jump up and down? He's doing that inside. Does he run a victory lap? Maybe later. Right now he needs to hear this about a million times more to make sure he's not dreaming.

"Yes, with you," she laughs now because he's in such shock. "With you, with Ash, and Rora, Chey, Si-Si, Murph, and Vaughnie, with all of them too. You gave me a night to think about it, Chris, but we both know I didn't need a night, I didn't need an hour or a minute because I'm here now. I'm offering everything to you, like I should have when you offered everything to me."

"You want to be with me," he states, wanting to make sure he has this straight. He will not have to be without her from now? That is what she is telling him, and he is just sitting here like an idiot staring at her?

"More than anything," she responds, leaning across the table and, not caring who might be watching, she kisses him, her breath stealing his. The waitress clears her throat and Stephanie pulls back, blushing, but not embarrassed. Two coffees and an orange juice later, and Stephanie is grinning at him.

"You're mine."

"Well, we're each other's," Stephanie shrugs her shoulder.

"You're leaving Paul," he can't speak yet. He will find the words eventually. But there's no rush anymore. He doesn't feel the need to say everything he needs to say before there are no more moments to say them. He doesn't feel the need to rush his love for her, to compartmentalize their time together.

"I've left Paul," she corrects. "I was brave."

The dam breaks. In a flush of emotion that thunders through him like a flood, everything he feels is amplified, and he's grinning, and his eyes are tearing up, to which she tilts her head, her eyes so earnest and open and warm and gray and his, those eyes are his. She's tearing up now too, simply from the look on his face. He stares up at the ceiling, wishing it were the open sky because somewhere, someone, maybe his mother, is shining down on him.

He's spent years being the one pushed aside. His love has gone discarded, thrown away so many times. His heart stomped on again and again. He has felt a weight upon his shoulders like a thick snow upon a tree branch, weighing him down slowly with each burden placed on it. In a flash, it's gone.

He laughs, seeing her through blurry vision. "You left him?"

"Last night," Stephanie nods. "I told him that it wasn't working, that we weren't working. I told him that I fell in love with you. I was honest, and it was hard, and he was mad, he was very mad, but…I don't care."

"Stephanie, you left him for me? I can't believe you did that. I can't believe you actually did that," he shakes his head and he has to rub at his eyes because the tears are stinging, and he can't and won't cry in public, not even for her.

"There was a time you were brave for me, and I threw it back in your face," she tells him, her voice soft. "You gave up everything for me, and I made you feel like you were wrong, like you were stupid, and so this time, I have to give up all of that for everything with you. And Chris…I want everything with you."

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear you say that," Chris told her, giving her a watery smile. "I've had dreams about you saying that, and I never thought—I never, ever thought it would…" He has to pause because the lump in his throat is enormous.

"I know," Stephanie sniffles because she wants to cry too. "I told him about Murphy and Vaughn. He wants the tests done too. I apologized because he deserves it, and I know he doesn't want it right now, but I've put it on the table for him if he ever wants to accept it, and he might not ever, but I think for Rora's sake he will."

"I don't know…what do now?"

"I do," she tells him, "I spent a whole night thinking about it. And you know what I'm ready to do now?"

"What?" She grabs his hands again, holding them tightly in his, squeezing them for dear life, like if she dares let go, he'll float away into the ether.

"I'm ready to live it."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: So we come to the end of the road! This lasted longer than I thought it would, but hey, I managed to keep it relatively short in comparison to most of my stories! Anyways, thank you to EVERYONE who read, reviewed, favorited, alerted, PMed me, DMed me on Twitter, emailed me about this story. I'm so glad so many of you liked it, and thank you, thank you, thank you for being such awesome readers. And I'd love to hear your feedback on this final epilogue-type chapter, so reviews would be amazing.

So without further ado...enjoy!

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><p>He catches her humming a lot.<p>

It's kind of how he knows she's home. Yes, home, as in their home, one they picked out together, one they bought together, one they decorated together, but most importantly, one they live in _together_. She said it was time to live, and in the moments, minutes, and months afterwards, they've done just that, in a way neither of them have been able to in the past. This time, they _live_. They take every moment and they seize it, and in the process, they have found they are happy.

Maybe that's why she hums.

It actually usually helps him when he needs to pinpoint her location in the large home. He hears her humming, and he follows her like she's a songbird calling towards him. Then he finds her and she looks up at him, smiling, doing whatever it is she's doing in that moment, and he stares for a second because sometimes, he just doesn't believe they're here, really here and together, without hiding. He can walk out in public with her hand tucked into his, and nobody can say a thing.

It's enough to make him hum.

"What are you doing?" she asks one morning before any of the kids are up. His kids are with him for the next couple weeks, and having them in addition to Aurora and his girls (who live with them most of the time) is a handful so sleep is at a premium.

"Making breakfast," he tells her, and he goes back to the bacon he's frying up, enough to feed a small army of their growing children. Stephanie starts about the kitchen, getting everything ready for coffee, and she starts humming as she pours the grounds into the coffee machine. "On anyone else, I would find that annoying."

"Find what annoying?" Stephanie asks, turning to him briefly in question before she goes back to fixing the coffee, pouring water into the machine, enough cups to get them through the day.

"Your humming," he tells her. "If you were anyone but you, I would have told you to shut up by now, but you're different. You're humming…it's different."

"It is?" Stephanie asks. "I hardly know I'm doing it until you point it out."

"It just tells me that you're happy," he shrugs, flipping over a piece of bacon. He feels her presence next to him, and he's still in awe that when he goes to sleep at night, her presence stays there the entire evening and well into the morning. He wakes up to her, and every morning it feels like he's been blessed beyond his capacity.

It was not easy, this life, this living they were doing. There were hard weeks after she told him that she wanted to be with him, that finally she chose him. There were paternity tests, custody battles, and divorces. He had her by his side though, and every time it felt hard, he knew that at the end of the tunnel, she would still be there. Through everything, she would still be there, and in those hard moments, she made it all bearable. She was not a prize to be won, she was not an object, but it felt like she was his reward, like he had fought so hard and she was waiting for him.

"I am happy," she reiterates, and some days he needs more than a few reassurances that they are in this together and happy. He knows it's foolish to expect her to tell them for the rest of their lives, but he just has to make sure sometimes, just has to be reminded that tomorrow morning, he isn't going to wake up and find an empty bed and an empty struggle for her affections.

"I'm glad," he says, still bashful even now. She wraps her arms around his waist and just sighs. It's a happy sigh though, one based on so many years of pure hurt that the relief still lingers months later. "So what do we have on tap today?"

"The kids wanted to go to the water park," Stephanie rolls her eyes, but she laughs, "I guess we can indulge them even though I'm not looking forward to wrangling in six kids. I figure that Murph and Vaughn will do the kiddie stuff while Aurora, the twins, and Ashy will want to do the bigger kid stuff."

"We can split off, you can handle our girls, and I'll handle the rest," Chris tells her, "I think they think I'm the fun parent anyways."

"Damn you," she teases him, pinching him in the side. Chris takes the bacon out of a pan and puts it on a paper towel. "But you're also right, I know they'd have more fun with you. You know, we have to start on the birthday blitz, right. The twins and Aurora's are coming up in a week, then we have Murphy's then Vaughn's, so we've got to start thinking about what—"

He cuts her off with a kiss, "We'll figure it out. It's summer, there's time."

"But—"

"No buts," he presses his finger to her lips. "I was thinking we can take them on vacation. We'll go to Hawaii or something, it'll be fun, we can stay on the beach, or hell, we can brave Disneyland."

"Brave Disneyland? In the middle of summer?" she feels his forehead. "Are you crazy? You must be crazy. We are not dragging six children around Disneyland in the summer. We'll rent it out for a day during the winter and we'll have the park to ourselves, but no. A vacation sounds nice though."

They both want the kids to spend as much time as they can together. The adjustment had the biggest impact on them. Murphy and Vaughn were young enough to where the new daddy thing didn't really register as a huge crater in their lives. They just called another man daddy, and they loved Chris. Aurora, Sierra, Cheyenne, and Ash were each coming around to where they felt comfortable, and Stephanie and Chris wanted to facilitate those relationships. It was going to take time, but it was going well so far.

"Then a vacation it'll be," Chris resolves. "I just want to be together with you, with them."

"I know," she nods, taking a piece of bacon and popping it into her mouth as the coffee starts to percolate.

"I don't think you do," Chris tells her, taking a deep breath as she turns towards him.

"What do you mean?" she asks, taking in his appearance. He feels flush, and he must look it because her countenance takes on one of concern. "Chris, are you okay? You look a little sick. Are you coming down with something, did you sleep last night? I thought you did, but who knows, I sleep like a log."

It's true, she sleeps heavily, and if one of the kids needs something during the night, he ends up being the one to wake up and get it for them. It's one of the things he loves about her. He's finding new things every day, and as much as he thought he knew Stephanie, he doesn't, not really, and that makes every day with her something new and refreshing. Like how she hums when she's happy, and how much he loves to hear her hum.

"I'm fine," he tells her. "You know, I've been trying to find the perfect moment for this, and I knew that I would know when it came."

"Chris…" She's reading the writing on the wall and her eyes widen. She twists her head around, like there's an audience, but the kids are still asleep, and they are standing in their kitchen, both still in their pajamas, with Stephanie in a pink robe with white hearts on it.

"You knew this was coming eventually, Steph," he jokes with her. "You just didn't know when it was going to happen."

It's true. They could not have gone this long without bringing up what they both wanted in the future, and this was it. This was their endgame. Their life was already their own, now they just had to make it official. The time wasn't right before, but it was right now, and it was right here, and it was just like how it should be, right in the midst of living.

"But here, in the kitchen, in the morning, me without any makeup on?" she laughs because she's already tearing up, knowing what's coming, and even knowing the outcome doesn't mean the emotions won't pour forth. He doesn't want to make her cry, but he has a feeling they both will, and it is only for her that he will bawl like a baby.

"Yes, here, in our kitchen with our pajamas on, and the kids asleep upstairs, and you looking as beautiful as you always do."

It's been a long enough road for the both of them. It's been a road forged on adultery and lies, yes, but more on unexpected love, and the ability to persevere in the face of overwhelming odds. They are not supposed to be here, not really. They are not supposed to be together, but they are, and they are better for their journey. If they did not have the struggle, the happiness would not have been so sweet.

"We've wasted enough time," he starts, his hands migrating to her waist, searching under her robe to feel her curves. "We've made mistakes, both of us, many of them. We were horrible spouses to our significant others, we cheated, we lied, we had children while we were still married, we did everything wrong—"

"Not the greatest proposal," she interjects, but she's smiling and her eyes are still watering, and he thinks he see one tear sneak its way out.

"But," he emphasizes the word, "we ended up with everything being right. Our mistakes…I'd make them all again because they will always bring me to you. Those years without you, Stephanie, the years where you couldn't be with me, they were necessary. They made me treasure what we have now, and I will never ruin it because I know what it's like to live without you, and I hate it. I hate every bit of it."

"I love you," she interrupts him again and she lets him. "And I'm so glad you accepted me back into your life."

"You never left it," he tells her. She never left his heart. Once she was inside of his heart, there was no way she'd ever leave it. She claimed it as her own and never let him go. "You're so much to me, not everything, I have five kids, and one very adorable soon-to-be-hopefully step-daughter, so you're not everything, but you're up there."

"Same goes for me."

"I'm happy, Steph, I'm happy. I'm happy when I go to sleep next to you, I'm happy when I wake up next to you. I'm happy when I introduce people to you as my girlfriend, I'm happy when I get to see you or hold your hand or kiss you. I'm happy."

"I'm happy too," she nods. "I want to be happy forever with you."

"Then let's do it. Let's finish this. Let's get married and be happy."

"Okay," she nods. "Let's do it. Let's do all of it. We've come too far not to go all the way. We've been through too much. Let's do it, and soon! Let's just…get married as soon as possible and start all of this."

"Yeah," he nods with her and he laughs, "I have a ring, it's upstairs, it's beautiful, I think, I will get it for you."

"Later," she pulls him closer, kissing him, tilting her head and deepening it, breakfast, coffee, kids, all forgotten, save for the two of them.

A few months ago, he walked into the Hall of Fame, determined to ignore her presence. There was no way he was going to do that. His body, mind, soul would not let him. She was sitting there with her daughter, her eyes fixed on his, his body aching for her touch. He did not know then that her body ached for his. He did not know then that a simple hug would lead him to everything he ever wanted. He once thought Stephanie was the type of woman you leave your wife for. Now he knows Stephanie is the type of woman you spend forever with.

They both hum into their kiss.

THE END


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